Not Alone
by Elenna Phi
Summary: Harry feels alone. Draco is there for him.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling; I'm just having some fun with them, no infringement intended.

Author's notes: This fic is for Sarah (twopennystar) for the Draco Ficathon, and it was all a bit stressful, frankly! Much love and hugs to Char (Jesabelle), for helping me greatly with it, and the fantastic beta :).

**Not Alone**

It wasn't that he loved him.

He would never be so foolish as to let his emotions control him in such an undignified manner. Love, in his opinion, was for those who recklessly wore their hearts on their sleeves, ruled by their emotional incontinence, and publicly displaying sentiment as though it was something to be proud of.

They were destined to fall from grace, and Draco knew far better than to allow this to happen. He was a Malfoy. It simply wasn't done. He smirked at the idea of himself being in love. No, it definitely wasn't something Draco was, or wished to be capable of.

Love was for the weak.

And anyway, how could he possibly love him, when he spent a large quantity of his time hating him?

Draco was perfectly sure of this, yet the aching, empty feeling that was residing uncomfortably within his stomach was unsettling. He supposed it was just an advanced form of rage and annoyance. Draco checked his watch for what felt like the eighty-seventh time and let out an infuriated breath and growled softly. It was now 10:03, 2 hours after they usually met here, in the abandoned store room by the dungeons. Draco wasn't sure why he'd waited this long, and as much as it bothered him, he found he couldn't leave. A small, irritating voice at the back of his mind whispered teasingly to him.

_You miss him. You care._

Draco pushed hard off the cold, stone floor and stood up quickly, brushing the thought away just as fast. He did _not care_; he was just pissed off to have his time wasted.

There had been times over the past year when one, or both of them, hadn't been able to make it, but it was courtesy for one to inform the other if they wouldn't be coming. Draco thought absently of the stash of notes they'd shared that he had locked up in his trunk. He should really throw them away. It's not like they mean anything to him.

He released another impatient breath and paced around the small room. It was cold, which he was both accustomed to, after having spent 6 years living in the Slytherin dungeons, and indeed liked. The heat of June often induced a lack of composure in people, and Draco intensely disliked both being hot and bothered, and having to be around large groups of sweaty teenagers. Sneering at the thought, Draco stopped pacing and decided there was clearly no point in staying any longer and dusted off his robes, the ache of rage increasingly painfully.

He stopped moving suddenly as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. His heart jumped instantly to his throat, and the empty ache of his stomach seemed to engulf him entirely. Draco stood frozen to the spot, his heart pounding unpleasantly fast. There was a light tap on the door, a low voice muttered "Alohomora", and a slither of light widened at Draco's feet as the door creaked slowly open.

Draco's breath caught in his throat for a second as, silhouetted against the light of the hallway, Harry Potter stepped in. Draco mentally slapped himself and found his voice within the rage that was disguised as emotion.

"Well, there's nothing like being on time, is there?"

Harry sighed heavily as he pushed open the door to see Draco standing, still and silent, half illuminated by a growing beam of light filtering in from the doorway. He was slightly taken aback – partly because he hadn't honestly expected Draco to still be here, but mostly because of the hurt, anxious expression on his face. But within a second the expression had vanished, and a cold glare replaced it, as though he'd quite suddenly come to his senses and remembered who he was. Which, Harry supposed, was true.

Draco tilted his head up and narrowed his eyes, "Well, there's nothing like being on time, is there?" he said, his voice as sharp as his expression. Harry was long beyond taking Draco's tendency to distance himself personally – he knew Draco had difficulty handling situations in which one couldn't help but reveal their feelings.

Harry exhaled wearily and looked away from him, closing the door and plunging the pair into complete darkness, except for the silvery light that emitted from a small lantern in the corner. Harry knew he should apologise. He'd left Draco waiting here for over 2 hours without explanation. But he couldn't bring himself to. Of all the emotions Harry was currently plagued by, remorse for this wasn't one of them.

He turned to lean against a wall and slid down it, exhaustion getting the better of him.

"Well?" Draco pressed, staring down at Harry's slumped form.

"I couldn't," Harry mumbled, knowing this was not an adequate explanation, but not having the energy to keep talking.

"Fine. Don't tell me. But don't fucking expect me to wait here for two hours every time you can't be arsed to come. God knows why I did anyway," Draco snarled, and took a step towards the door, though Harry knew he wouldn't leave.

"Wait," Harry said quietly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't… I didn't mean to worry you, I just—"

"You didn't worry me," Draco spat, "I just don't like being kept waiting. It's rude and inconsiderate." He sniffed and turned his head away.

Harry rolled his eyes. "For Gods sake Draco, stop acting like you don't care." Draco opened his mouth in protest, but Harry ignored it. "I know I was wrong and that I should have told you, but just get over it will you? I've got enough to deal with at the moment." He grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the pounding to go away.

Draco faltered, and for a second Harry thought he was going to start shouting, but instead he said quietly, "Fine." He sat down beside Harry and leaned his head against the wall. "So, what's the matter then?" He said this very quickly and irritably, but Harry could detect a softer note behind it, a quiet concern that Draco would be disgusted to admit was there.

"It's been a year," Harry mumbled, kicking himself for letting his voice crack. Draco turned to look at him in confusion.

"Since?"

Harry swallowed hard, willing the painful lump threatening to constrict his airway to go away. "Sirius," he said shortly, without unclenching his teeth.

Draco was silent for a couple of seconds, as though planning what to say. "Oh," he said lamely. Harry snorted.

_Yes. Oh._

Harry's insides were once again overwhelmed by a surge of burning anger. He was angry so much of the time these days that he barely noticed when it bubbled up inside him, and when it did, he found it hard to distinguish exactly who he was angry at.

_Everyone, perhaps._

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he felt Draco's cool fingers weave roughly through his own. A rush of emotion rose inside him, and he screwed up his eyes in an attempt to save his dignity as the lump in his throat expanded. He crushed Draco's fingers within his own, desperate to keep hold of something real, feeling sure that if he let go, he might fall into his mind so far that no one would be able to help him out.

"Everyone I care about gets fucking ripped away from me, don't they?" Harry blurted out savagely, before he could stop himself. "Soon there'll be no one left…I'll be alone," he whispered, more to himself than Draco.

"You have me."

Harry turned to look at Draco. His angled features were pulled into a frown, but there was something quite intense about the look in his eyes that made Harry feel safe. The numbness clouding his brain faded slightly, though was replaced with a rising sense of dread. Just how long_ would_ he have Draco, though? Harry wasn't sure how he'd cope if something happened to Draco. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

"And Granger and the ugly Weasley boy," Draco added, a slight smirk forming at his lips.

"They have each other now. They don't need me anymore," he said angrily. Harry never really had a problem with Ron and Hermione getting close, but he felt that he had the right to blame them for his current state of mind anyway.

"Oh don't be stupid. You know they need you. Quite pathetic, really."

"Do you need me?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco faltered, but recovered quickly. "What? Need you? I am not a needy person. I could function perfectly well without you, thanks. I do not _need you_. I want you."

Before Harry could protest, Draco had leant over and pressed his lips firmly over his. A dizzy spell came over Harry, which was quite unlike the one he'd experienced earlier, where a wave of sickness so strong he'd vomited had swept unpleasantly through him. Once again he found himself feeling quite lost, but this time he welcomed it. It was the sort of lost that allowed him to temporarily forget everything, permitting him to fall into the moment like it was all that mattered in the world. His mind shut down and all he could concentrate on was Draco. He kissed him back forcefully, reaching out blindly and grabbing a fistful of robes, his other hand snaking behind Draco's neck, gripping his hot flesh and pulling him closer.

Draco gasped for breath between Harry's urgent kisses. He was momentarily stunned by the force at which Harry was attacking him, and the strength of his grip. His fingers grasped almost violently at the back of his neck and head, and, before he knew it, Harry had pushed him back to lie on the hard, stone floor. Harry's weight fell on top of him, and his hands began moving frantically to the front of Draco's robes, struggling with the clasp. Something was screaming at the back of Draco's mind. As much as part of him was desperate for Harry to not stop, there was something entirely unsettling about the situation that he could not throw off. Panic rose within him, and he tried to push Harry away, turning away to avoid his lips.

"Harry!" he panted, pressing his hand forcibly on Harry's chest, pushing him upwards. He struggled against Draco, but eventually gave in and rolled off him. They were both gasping to catch their breath. Draco turned his head to see Harry glaring back at him, his chest heaving rapidly.

"What's the matter?" he shot angrily.

It took Draco a few seconds to understand why he'd stopped Harry. It shocked him somewhat as it occurred to him that he was being emotionally sensitive. The thought unnerved him greatly. Harry was angry and upset, and clearly not taking the anniversary of his useless Godfather's death well. He was doing this to block it out, and for some unknown reason, Draco knew it was wrong. He pulled himself up to sitting, and Harry followed his lead.

"You – you're not –" Draco started, and huffed impatiently. "We can't do this now. Not when you're so…"

"So _what_?" Harry said heatedly. "So _nothing_! I'm fine! Why don't you want me?" He was shouting now, and Draco could see him trembling slightly.

"Of course I want you, I just said I did, didn't I? I just don't think this is a good idea when you're only doing it to try and block out everything else!"

"I'M FINE! SO WHAT IF I WANT TO FORGET? WOULDN'T YOU? I DON'T CARE! I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT –" Harry's voice cracked audibly and he stared at Draco, fury creasing his face and his breath coming in short, trembling gasps. As though he couldn't bear to look at Draco any longer, his eyes screwed up and he dropped his head into his hands, his fingers gripped tightly in his hair.

He took a shuddering breath and began to sob.

Draco wasn't sure how long they stayed in the storeroom that night, but it was certainly a while before Harry's shoulders stopped shaking under Draco's soothing fingers, and his rasping breath finally regulated. Draco said nothing. They sat together in the cold room, Harry curled up next to Draco as his hand moved almost without will over Harry's back.

It did concern Draco that he couldn't even find it within himself to be irritated by the whole situation. How, for some reason, he was content to just sit quietly with him. How it was with an overwhelming sense of emptiness and longing that in the early hours of the morning they went to their separate dorms, and Draco climbed into bed alone.

But it wasn't that he loved him.

Fin.


End file.
